


A Fleeting Affair

by SepiaWhiskey



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Avatar Zuko, Awkward Conversations, Azula - Freeform, Dad Zuko, Drabble, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fire Lord Zuko, Goodbyes, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Going to Hell, Katara - Freeform, Mai - Freeform, Mako - Freeform, Minor Mai/Zuko, Not Canon Compliant - The Legend of Korra, Poor Life Choices, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Relationship Advice, Romantic Angst, The Gaang - Freeform, Ty-Lee - Freeform, You're not gonna like the end, Zuko - Freeform, Zuko / Reader - Freeform, Zuko Angst, aang - Freeform, bolin - Freeform, korra - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 22:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9790568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SepiaWhiskey/pseuds/SepiaWhiskey
Summary: Reader is the trainer for Izumi ( 13 ) , his daughter. Mai had passed during childbirth ( thirteen years ago ) and Reader serves as an unofficial mother figure to Izumi. She is asked to join the two for dinner most nights, a daily period in time in which the Firelord must come face to face with his guilt ridden feelings.( COMPLETED )Request at my Tumblr: [ Sepia-Whiskey ]





	1. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm basing his design off of the design of the photo of "Old Friends / New Friends."
> 
> Here's the link if you're unfortunate enough to have never seen it: 
> 
> http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/avatar/images/6/6d/Old_Team_Avatar.png/revision/20130505144840

“You are not loosening yourself enough, princess. Constrict yourself and you constrict your chi. Again. “

 

There is no shame in failure, there is only failure in failing to admit it. How many times had Master Kyla told her this? How many times had restless afternoons of the same techniques and repetitious practice sessions ended with those words. She was nearly certain, Izumi was, that at this point in time they were likely inked somewhere over her body. She huffs in exhaustion but gives a nod, shaking her hands in attempt to feel some form of release that she is preached before drawing back her hands, exhaling harshly before drawing her fists until they were aligned with her waist. She takes a solitary step forward and falls off balance at the sliding of one of the palace doors, whipping her head around to the sight of her father - Master Kyla mirroring this with a differing expression, less tolerant.

 

At once, the Fire Lord raises his hands in surrender (or fear) and gives a lopsided sort of smile, waving towards where they stood, “Please. Continue. I just wanted to watch.”

 

At once, Izumi gives a sharp turn to her trainer, the predicted hesitation of an audience so early swirling in her eyes like a storm, unsure. She finally complies with a nod to him, turning to her. Master Kyla has never been one to desire approval but it would seem on this rather chilly afternoon, she was in a mood to example her worth as Izumi’s private trainer. Reasons her father had not done this himself were lost to Izumi and nearly everyone aware of Kyla’s employment but there was an irrational idea that it had something to do with his late wife, and thus, was not questioned. Better days had seemed so far after the death of the Fire Lord’s other half amidst the birth of Izumi. How many days had he locked himself within his quarters - child unseen. How could he? The eventual draw of his happiness but momentary curse crying in the other room, surely a youthful repetition of Mai.

 

Days turned into the weeks and he had not looked upon Izumi even once. He busied himself with the loathsome work of expanding the Fire Nation newly established methods for peace - an honest cause with far more politics involved than he had cared to take on. The caretakers hired on a whim had asked him so often within the first week if he wished to see his daughter but easily saw his consistent denial and ceased this. It was a relative four weeks before he looked over Izumi and realized his purpose.

 

He did not regret his mourning, but the method in which he did so.

 

Izumi had actually chosen Kyla personally in a trip to the Eastern Region of the Fire Nation in Hóngshān. She had been dispatched by a private organization to teach defensive methods to villagers within the mountains for the sudden aggression foreign threats unwilling to come together with the single Nation that had killed, pillaged, and occupied their homes began to bring to the Fire Nation. It wasn’t uncommon and the Nation’s jails and prisons were filled with more Earthbenders and Water Benders than actual homeland citizens. He had been heavily urged by his Council to assure these people of their safety at the time when Izumi had tagged along against his directive. She found Kyla in her search for what his Uncle had imbedded into her mind as “the perfect tea” -  Mengding Mountain Gan Lu. She was lucky enough to come across the village as nearly everyone could make it. In turn of money, this along with other recipes and methods of illness curing were offered to Kyla. After dispatching his guards brought along, he found the two sitting along the edge of a cliff, legs crossed and laughing as the young, ten at the time, Izumi, insisted that Kyla come back with them.

 

_“Kyla studied with Master Ghenka’s son, father! Can’t she come back with us?”_

 

_Zuko regarded the woman a moment, trying to decide how  he would say no before the woman removed the small cup from her lips, standing, “If I may, your highness? No matter the element, education is always subjective. How you may be teaching her might be too soft or too rough on her. From what I can see, my method of teaching is quite compatible with her chi and...exuberance.” She chuckled. Zuko  had given the woman a surprised look, questioning how she knew that he had been teaching her._

 

_“Well, good tea prompts candor.”_

 

_“Uncle Iroh will love her!”_

 

_This was true._

 

_“Please don’t feel pushed to say yes, sir. Izumi had brought up the idea and I have always liked the idea of working with children and it seemed to work. I would only need somewhere to rest my head and proper attire for Izumi. No money sent directly to me but to my organization.”_

 

_“I would need to speak to the Council about that,” he affirmed._

 

_“That’s fine by me.”_

 

She agreed to come down and train Izumi once she was done with her promise of three months in the mountains.

 

As promised, she arrived promptly upon the doorstep of the Royal Family with her bags. The training attire bought for Izumi already broken in, worn for days in anticipation for the woman’s arrival. The assumed compatibility was properly predicted and Zuko was astounded to see the blaze of cobalt flames outside his chamber window with an excited Izumi yelling for her father to come see.

 

Even at that time of her excelling gift with bending, Kyla had been apprehensive to actually display it without proper techniques readied. She simply preferred things at the ready before they were displayed. She, however, did swallow this and permit a small peak at their practice. When this occurred, Izumi knew she would press for the hardest one and looked up a bit anxiously at Kyla.

 

A firm smile was her offer and she knelt down, “I will let you decide which one you want to do.”

 

Izumi smiles brightly, “Truly?”

 

“Of course…” She steps back from Izumi and sets her hands behind her back, “She will display her personal choice today.” Zuko gives a nod and nods towards his daughter who feels the anxiousness of a performer from the plays she has seen with her father, clearing her throat. She shuts her eyes tight and desperately searches for one that has ease but enough so that she will come off as skilled. She concurs with herself and balances on a single foot, the entire bottom of her foot pressed against the side of her calf before she begins. An array of blue flames ignite upward and her hands find the ground as she flips herself, a streak of fire thundering down with her right foot as it extends on its own. She is careful not to ignite anything within the garden and curbs the length of her blazing. When she finishes, she huffs a bit, gaze moving to Kyla first who smiles in approval, fist to palm as she gives a respectful bow. Izumi turns to her father who is equally impressed with her work.

 

She squeaks in surprise when Master Kyla consumes her in a hug that lifts her briefly, releasing her softly and ushering her towards the entrance of the palace. She gives her father a tight hug on the leg, calling for her nanny of sorts as she moves within to brag of her skills. Kyla openly laughs, holding her stomach and gives a respectful bow to Zuko, moving past him, “Your presence always proves counterproductive, sire.”

 

Zuko blinks, “How do you mean? She did great.”

 

“Great. Exceptional. But she was nervous.” She smiled, turning on a heel back to the man, “Was meant in no way as an insult to you or her highness. Just...me being observant. She is dire in her need to impress you despite your consistent pride in her mere existence. I truly believe it is what drives her.” She pauses and looks at him. She cannot read his expression but curves her head with a small smile, “I apologize if I have offended you.”

 

“You didn’t,” He assures a bit gruffly, “Not at all.”

 

“Good. That is never my intention when we speak.”

 

“Will you be joining Izumi and I for dinner?”

 

“Oh, is there any other way I spend my nights?” She chuckles, the Fire Lord following at her side as he scratches the corner of his nose, “Most nights. Where do you go the other times? If you don’t mind my asking.” She blinks at his curiosity and smiles what seems in a somewhat timid smile, “Oh, um. Well, I’ll find a nice inn serving or really anywhere. I try not to disturb the palace so I’ll often climb back through the window. The first time doing that was...problematic and I had guards firing at me before we worked it out.”

 

“Disturb us?” He blinks.

 

“Busy man. Edged guards. I cross the entire palace to get to my quarters. I have to cut through several rooms and get lost frequently. I’m better off cutting through the gardens and reaching the window. Keeps me agile as well.”

 

He chuckles, “My quarters aren’t so far from the entrance.”

 

There is a pause and he sees a sudden shyness about her manner. She seems startled and looks at him with puzzlement, as though expecting something further. Her hands leave her back and she has them at her side. He can nearly feel the heat of nervousness radiating off of her as she mumbles quietly, “No, they’re not…?”

  
He moves to ask the issue before there is crashing within the halls. They both move quickly to the end to find Izumi on the ground of her room, face down with her arms dramatically sprawled. The Master and Fire Lord share a look of confusion before Kyla steps forward, “Princess?” Izumi peaks her gaze up, looking behind at them, a small bruise on her forehead, “Yes?”

 

“Are you...well?”

 

“Utterly.”

  
Zuko chimed in, “You’re bruised.”

 

“I fell.”

 

“When?”

 

“When I was running earlier.”

 

“...so why are you on the floor now?”

 

“Tired.”

 

Zuko moves to push the subject before Kyla grins, “The rugs here are uncomfortably comfortable. I completely understand. I suppose we’ll leave you to it, yes?” Izumi gives a content smile, cheek now to the floor as she remains where she is. Kyla gives a shrug with amusement and leaves the room with him, hands brushing over her clothes as she follows him through the hall.

 

If there is one person next to Zuko that understands Izumi immensely, it is Kyla. She had turned into a motherly figure without any real plan in doing so. She was someone Izumi greatly respected. She had turned into something of a family member truly and the thought of her absence seemed so strange to Zuko. Kyla. Gone. The Palace quiet with Izumi lazing around as she once had before Kyla. The words themselves felt so strange. He looks at her, “Kyla...I don’t...I’m not sure if I have ever truly expressed this or really know if I’m doing so correctly now, but...I’m glad you’re here.”

 

“Sire?” She looks at him, baffled.

 

Was she really so oblivious to her worth within this family?

 

“I am.” He puts firmly, “You’ve been nothing but an asset and I’m...glad you’re here.”

 

She smiles and what she says beyond that is lost to him. He receives a strange tension when she smiles. Feels enlightened. The same feeling he has compared to his Uncle with the perfect tea. He loves it. Three years ago and even in this moment, he knows the rarely mentioned beauty of her. He winces at the sight of bruises on her cheeks or when she wraps herself up after training sometimes, working her body to unnatural lengths. There is a guilt that compounds the weight of his words and he reels back in thought of Mai. Reels back in thought of all she had been to him and scolds himself inwardly for daring to look at another woman the same way.

 

He managed constantly to distance himself to his attraction to Kyla with the affirmation that she was a stranger. He didn’t know Kyla. He had known Mai. He didn’t know Kyla. He would never know Kyla.

 

He gives her a nod, “I suppose we’ll be seeing you for dinner then.”

  
He waits for no response. Cannot bare the smile. Doesn’t hesitate for a second and by the time her head rises to concur with something witty to end their conversation, he is already striding down the hall to his quarters, the doors quietly shutting behind him.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up. The spaciousness is default when you copy and paste. It doesn't effect the story so I don't make a move to change it. Not a big enough deal to me. But thanks to the user who told me about it. Preesh.

Time has a way of working against or alongside an individual's intentions.

 

The intent, for most, is that healing will somehow pull through and see us to a better day without that weight in our chests and hearts that seems like forever but truly isn’t. The same thing occurred with his mother and the same thing occurred with his wife. He wanted that pain gone, he did not want to feel that, and now that he didn’t he felt a shame in it missing. Almost passive, as though he was trying to just not think about Mai so that he could move on and just marry someone else. He had known Mai for so long. What kind of bastard would he be to simply move on from her and actually attempt something with...any other woman.

 

Agni, of course he was talking about Kyla.

 

As of late, his thoughts easily drift to her, thoughts without any true correlation but they nonetheless find her. The Council’s words fall on deaf ears and he can only think of the afternoon where she will be here to train his daughter and once again, join them for dinner, completing a piece of the home that hangs with an evident emptiness. It comes out one dinner that she has gone beyond the Fire Nation and has visited several areas of the Water Tribe, interested in her completely opposite element. She had trained with some of their best, drawing confusion between daughter and father. Zuko is the one to verbalize it.

 

_“I’ve been to several Water Tribes. They function primarily around...ice. I’m curious how you didn’t end up burning something down while training with them.” His fork stayed at bay until she responded, sipping her tea. To the side, Iroh looked at the woman in interest, nearly mesmerized with her as though he was pleased that this was the woman his nephew would be marrying._

 

_She gives a soft smile and glances at Izumi before setting her drink down, “Well, it’s something close to the point, your majesty - control. Without control, theoretically, we could all burn down the entire palace. It really helps learning how to reel in and when to expel the most of your abilities. I was able to commit the same moves with my fire that they did with water, completely in tune with them with the same amount of control.”_

 

_Iroh points with a smirk, looking at his nephew, “Yes! You see, nephew? I’ve told you about this. Experiencing other methods of bending. But you won’t listen.” Zuko flushes under the scolding of his uncle and looks to his food, scratching the back of his neck before looking to his daughter who happily slurps her soup._

 

_Kyla gives a hearty grin and shakes her head, continuing to eat._

 

She is more  than comfortable with her training attire and it occurs to Zuko in time that she doesn’t have much of anything else stashed to wear. For days, he battles himself on whether or not to actually acquire some more formal attire for her. It plagues his thoughts and the Fire Lord runs over a million times if she will take them with a new look in her eyes for him in terms of his generosity or if she will see him as off putting. Against his better judgement, he tip toes around the matter with his daughter who becomes elated in thought and nearly demands that they have something specially made.

  
He hadn’t even thought of that.

 

His daughter wastes no time spreading the word through the staff who politely add their two cents of the manner. There seems to almost be a push for the Fire Lord to pursue her despite the lack of actual intent being verbalized. Whenever questioned, he is quick to assure that this is purely in response to her successful work with Izumi. She had been serving their family for a strong three years. The thought was not so convoluted.

 

Though as far as he can tell, no one believes him.

 

However, the consistent suggestion lies with a formal hakama and after scolding his daughter for being so open with his plans, he sends out plans for one to be made by a seamstress.

 

Within the weeks, he volleys between regret and mild excitement in regards to the hakama. There is a visible wear and tear to her barre leggings and tang shirt spotted with stains that would likely remain, only to fade mildly with time. The only thing unneccessary to replace fell with the wrappings that reached her elbows that  she replaced daily. In truth, the Fire Lord had come to expect the training attire of his daughter’s...trainer. There was certainly a feeling of lewdness he felt when he watched her train. It felt strange watching her, his mind perceiving it as him watching her in a private time when his daughter was usually only a few feet away, watching in awe of her technique. And rightfully so. Kyla was incredibly skilled and controlled with her fire, eerily as masterful as he could recall his sister being in their youth.

 

He took to watching more, wanting his daughter to be comfortable training in front of him. The first few days, he was ushered from his own garden by Kyla and watched from a distance within the walls until his daughter could perform properly,  seating himself to the side. There is a fuss with a few of the servants who want to block him ( a firebender ) from the sun. He waves them away, flushed in notice that Kyla laughs. When he is able to relieve himself of the staff, he finds a rather amused Kyla standing before him.

 

He blinks at her sudden presence, his expression alone seeming to speak for him. She chuckles, nodding towards the inside of the palace, “The tanghulu came out and I lost her interest completely.”  He smiles with a chuckle, “That is Izumi. Priorities in a fray.” She softly pants with a breathless laugh, looking into the palace, “She's my first student, ever. It makes me want to teach more.”

 

He almost comments about how she seems as though she has been doing this far longer than the actual amount of time but another thought stuns him, “You've been here three years - unpaid. Agni, Kyla.”

 

She flushes under the clear compliment, “Funding for my organization is enough for me. When I leave here,  the only thing I can hope for is that I've left some sort of mark on the both of you. You and Izumi.” She scratches her nape, sitting with legs crossed in front of him as she stretches her arms, looking up at him, “I'm a bit of a perfectionist. Don't like to go where I can't make a clear difference. The moment her flames pitched blue? Agni, was it amazing.”

 

He hears little after a certain statement, “You're leaving?”

 

She blinks, “Only if you'd have me do so. But I would assume that I would eventually part for organic reasons. I’d hate to leave prematurely”

 

“That would…” words are suddenly difficult, “...be unfortunate.”

 

“Would it?” She blinks. Surely she was not so unaware of her relevance here? He cocks his head to the side slightly and gives a grunt in part with a nod, “Of course. You’re family, Kyla.” She reacts to the sound of her name from him. He notices this. She gives something small of a smile and with fist to palm, gives a respectful bow, “Excuse me won't you?” She slips away with a face of embarrassment, not to be seen for much of the day beyond training.

 

_________

 

Sleep comes in its own time, but when it does, it is a taunting realm.

The Fire Lord is not one for dreams, his sleep incessantly void of them even in youth. The occurrence was a rare one and but when he did dream, it was of nothing good. His insecurities, his fears, his harsh reality as the essentially orphaned prince of the Fire Nation forged into a temporarily inescapable reality. It’s for this that he loathes his time in bed. The palace falls to a sickening silence, the staff moving in shushed movements as not to disturb Izumi or himself. The natural ambience of life dies away and he is, once again, a pawn to his thoughts without so much as one distraction. He will desperately poise himself in limbo of consciousness and its counterpart before succumbing to the inevitable slumber. It has been quite some time since he’s actually been able to rest for the entire night without a nightmare or sleep deprivation in a whole keeping him. If he manages to stay awake for the entire night, he pays a heavy price in the morning, proving to be a rather oscitant leader in meeting with the Council. His insomnia is no well-kept secret within the walls of the palace. Neither state of being brings relief and whether or not this goes in hand with his element, the sun brings an excuse to avoid another moment in bed.

Tonight moves slowly. _Slowly_.

He lays still on his back, head turned in direction to his window, gaze fixated on the moon as it remains stagnant. He exhales and nearly turns his head to face the ceiling before a blaze of fire expels clear in his vision of the moon, a breathless expletive following. He stands at once, fists poised before slowly moving to the window, head peeking cautiously. It has come from the garden, and it comes from Kyla.

Adorned in her typical attire of barre leggings and tang shirt, hands wrapped to the elbow and she takes her stance, panting softly. How long had she been at this, exactly? He had only just now heard any signs of something going on yet she seemed as though she had been working at this all night. For all his lack of sleep was worth, he was able to say that it had been dark for quite some time. The sun wouldn’t peek for a while but despite this, she seemed to have been at this all night.

 

Against his better judgement, he pries the door of his quarters open, pacing slowly down the hall as not startle the staff and send the palace into a state of emergency - though now that he thought back, his absence in bed may do that all on its own. Looking back, he decides that it's too late to go back to bed now being so close to the entrance of the garden. He runs his feet across the floor, drawing back the door before closing it tightly behind him. He immediately presses his back to the wall and grits his teeth at the faintest creak of his foot to the wooden flooring before looking up. Fluid in movements, it is clear she uses a water bending method, arms flowing like literal waves. It’s interesting to say the least. He had tampered with other methods but found what he learned to be the most useful in terms of whenever he truly was using fire. It was rarely just to light a candle so control was not high on his priorities.

 

The streak of fire runs through the garden as she bends with fluid motions, eyes closed. He watches the fire, gaze moving from her to it. It becomes nearly mesmerizing in the way it maneuvers through, lighting up areas of the garden briefly before moving to another portion of the area. It’s beautiful.

 

Which is why he loathes when he is spotted.

  
The flames disperse suddenly and he sees her entire being jump at the sight of him, hand to chest as she looks at him shocked, “You scared me! I nearly fired off at you!” She gives that breathless laugh that shows more worry than actual amusement before guiding her hand with a harsh thrust towards a lantern, igniting the candle within as she gives a respectful bow, standing once over with, “Your highness?”

 

“Zuko, please…” he sets a hand up. She is visibly taken aback but gives a nod, though he’s certain she will avoid pronouns from this point on. He gestures around them, asking what she is doing outside so late within the limbo of days.

 

She exhales, hands to her hips. This is the first time he sees her actually taking to a more casual stance. Her shoulders drops and she looks away. He swears there is irritation over the line of her eyes and she looks up like a fed up teenager, exhaling with a groan, “It’s childish, but releasing helps me let go of stress. If I just keep it in, I get all...blech. The last thing I’d want to do is snap to Izumi so some nights I come out here and just either practice or fire off in the sky with as much as I can.”

This shocks him, “I’ve...never heard it up to now.”

 

“I’m usually out pretty late. Hard sleeping sometimes.”

 

Another blow, “ _You_?”

 

She gives a chuckle void of actual mirth and looks at him tired, “You’d be surprised what I’ve seen. Despite the good of aiding villagers in the mountains and the like, sometimes you don’t get there in time. It’s not every night, but…” she shrugs, still averting gaze, “It stays with you. It really does.” He nods to her thoughts but does not remove himself from the shadows, arms crossed over chest as he nods, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Unnecessary…” he looks up at this. She smirks, looking down at her feet as she kicked the dirt under her, “There’s no point dwelling on the past. I’m better off blowing off steam some nights than talking about it.”

 

Zuko cocks his head, a bit unsure of the logic behind that. He gives a nod and comes up from the wall, “Would you want help? Dealing with the stress?” Again, as before at the mention of his quarters, the Fire Lord is faced with a face of utter embarrassment. She flushes and blinks, “I - uh, I was just going to train a little longer if that’s what you - what you meant.” He offers a nod in obliviousness, stepping out finally and striding to the center of the garden with her, “I did.”

 

She seems to consider the situation before giving a nod, glancing behind her before adjusting her stance. She positioned her hands in a way that Zuko knows will thrust an intensity of flames if he's not careful. He'd actually almost assured her that going soft on him would be unnecessary but it seemed like the warning itself was unneeded. It's a dimly lit environment given the time, but somehow he manages to see the raise of an eyebrow amidst the moonlight, “After you, Your Highness.”

 

He senses a soft tone of taunting and smirks within the shadows. His hands extend behind, hair grouped before being neatly pinned into a bun. He inhales before launching at a brief running start, foot tearing into the air with a kick, a streak of blaze flying towards her. With a quick curve of the foot, she presses her palms together, hands dividing the flames in advance to a sudden burst through her fist.

 

She predicts his sidestep rather than actually blocking and already sends an awaiting streak for him with an effortless kick. She already pants with already practicing prior to his presence but there is also a bit of satisfaction training with someone close to her age. From what she's been told, Zuko is only a year and a half older than her, possibly two - she hadn't really received a straight answer. Regardless, it is hard to train to her full potential with Izumi given her being an essential novice compared to herself and her father. But only minutes into a few shots with Zuko and she feels an actual strain to perform in the best way.

 

In the mountains, she had fended off attackers at a time with little regard to what happened to them physically. Her desire to control came after nearly charring a young man acting only out of emotional duress to his father. Like any firebender, to completely let go came as a temptation but up until tonight, she had managed to avoid it. Control did not seem so urgent with Zuko. Even in times when she dares to almost set fire to the low hanging tree above them, he manages to deflect and come unscathed. It's a strange relief but she enjoys it.

 

He takes advantage of her lull in concentration and manages to come close enough for hand to hand, leg firing up. His eyes widen in an understood shock when she barely moves, hand catching his kick under ankle and lifts it farther up, whatever was intended to come out dying into a small, barely counting flame that dies away immediately once raised. There is a strange silence before he looks under his raised leg at a smirking Kyla who cocks her head to the side, “Do you know how many men have tried to blatantly kick me in my face to get past me?” She jerks a leg under him, forcing him down crashing on his back onto the grass.

 

“And if you were wondering about the flame dying away, you fired too late. I knocked the balance out of your chi when I abruptly tilted your leg up more. Essentially - “

 

“You blocked it…” he finishes in stagnant surprise.

 

She only smiles, “Well, yeah.”

 

He sits up and her foot lifts slightly, initiating that teenage feel again, “No offense, Zuko - but don't move. I wanna savor this. Downing the Fire Lord.” She sets her hands to her hips and inhales, suddenly, grinning, “Oh yes, very pleased with this.” He looks up at her, panting somewhat, “You know how to chi - block?” She looks down at him with a single nod, “I do. On worst days, it served us better to just take away an attacker's abilities rather than fend them off under the possibility of bystanders getting hurt.”

 

She extends a hand to him, a smug glint in her eyes, “Plus, it's worth the look of shock people give - like you're doing now.” He looks at her hand then to her before he chuckles, hands up, “You got me.” He reaches for her hands that she snaps back, “Zuko, if you try to pull me down I'll limp up your arm. Swear to Agni.” He gives hands of defense with a laugh before lifting himself up, dusting his chest of dirt, “Is it a normal response to suddenly be a little nervous with you?”

 

To this, she laughs quietly, “It happens. But don't tell Izumi. Once kids find out, they wanna learn how to block the chi and it's usually in unnecessary instances.” He nods to swear and sets hand to palm, bowing, “I've been beat. I know when to acknowledge - “

 

A sudden burst of energy tears through him feeling slender fingers curl around his bicep. He looks stands upright with Kyla closer, chuckling up at him, “We'll keep tonight between you and me. No need.” He looks at her strangely and nods, “Everything?”

 

She affirms this with a nod and smile, “Everything. You sound nervous. Scared I'll tell someone that you got beat by a woman?”

 

He frowns, “If you think that, then you should speak with Master Katara. She'll have stories. Stories I'd care to never hear again.” He gives a small smile and looks at her differently, “I would like to ask you something. It's a...simple question but I promise there is more to it.” Kyla responds with mild confusion but nods, hands crossed over chest, “Of course. What is it?” He keeps his hands behind his back, clearing his throat, “I...well first, I wonder if...you ever maybe feel obligated to certain emotions? Like, to feel any other way is dishonorable to...certain people? Am I making sense?”

 

She covers her mouth in a wide grin, “I don't feel like you are. I'm sorry.”

 

“Kyla, do you feel obligated to... _feel_ a certain way in the name of...ugh. Say Izumi we're to , when older, become betrothed to someone I was not approving of - “

 

“Well, you're the Fire Lord. I imagine that would be an easily fixed situation.” She smiles, biting her lip in a grin watching him pace in his confliction. Her gaze lazily drifts down to his bare chest here and there but she manages to catch his gaze when he looks to her for confirmation or simple comprehension.

 

“You would think so! But I'm led by my desire to see her happy rather than perpetuating tradition. Yes?”

 

“Yes, Zuko.”

 

“Yes! So despite my feelings regarding this young man in question, I would feel obligated to remain civil and accept him because...most things are not so simple. Things that truly matter to individuals cannot be restrained by uniformity or unreasonable expectations that take no regard to the progression of time...am I making _any_ sense because I feel like I'm blathering and getting nowhere?” Kyla blinks before clearing her throat, “I understand what you're saying. Somewhat. Sometimes, you have to break away from expectations due to personal beliefs or feelings.”

 

“Exactly!” He sighs in relief, standing before her, “You've got it exactly. Perfectly.”

 

“Good, good. So then what would that have to...do with…” her words slow in pace and she is in light of the sudden close of space between the two by his own accord. A single, warm finger tilts her chin up and there's little she can do beyond look up at him as he speaks with a quiet time suddenly, “I loved Mai. But I don't want to feel like I can't move forward and deal with the fact that I have feelings for you because of the past...does that make sense?”

 

Her fingers graze the hand under her chin and her toes sink somewhat into the dirt as she moves up, lips brushing against his in move she, herself, recognizes as quite bold, “I'm starting to get it…” When she completely kisses him, it takes a moment for either person to truly comprehend it. For Kyla, it had always been a thought to push away. Something that would never occur. With traditionalist parents, distancing herself from home and dedicating her life to anything other than marrying first had already isolated her greatly. Yet, in the end of it all, she had felt a peace within this family - The Royal Family. She could hardly breathe when his hands shifted to her nape and lower back, pulling her closer whilst intensifying the kiss.

 

For Zuko, it comes as a relief. He feels a building pain in his chest fall out and the warmth within Kyla that vibrates onto him is enough to last him a lifetime. It's a quick moment, but he sees her lips part. It's likely for words of worry or perhaps she was just looking to take a breath. Regardless, he seizes the opportunity and slips his tongue in, dominating the kiss with minimal effort. Her satisfaction in this shows when the softest of moans slips out. He's far beyond pulling back when her hands slide with ease over his shoulders, taking a soft hold as she remains in her toes.

 

“ _Dài wǒ shuìjiào, Zuko…_ ” She breathes, pulling away for what can barely be considered an inch, blood rushing to all areas of her body as she swiftly pants. He doesn't bother with words and catches her by surprise, his hands cupping her rear, lifting her against him. He invades the crook of her neck, softly biting before soothing the skin with a kiss each time. Her nails swiftly graze his skin before gripping completely.

 

She finally sees the inside of his quarters and does not leave until morning.

 

It's nothing short of a well kept secret, so much so that the staff does not even blink in either one's presence. Kyla’s insistence to keep her agility up aids the affair greatly. In nights, he will affirm her presence with an arm around her body in bed, yet is always astounded to find his bed void of a second presence, Kyla and Izumi’s laughter flourishing through the garden.

 

As much passion as there is within the relationship, a passionate night is followed by conversation. They last until one cannot hold back anymore and fall asleep, the other following. He tells her things he's never told anyone - Mai included. He mentions his past. Mentions his present. He mentions his mother.

 

Agni, he mentions his _mother._

 

And she listens. Kyla remains to his chest, head laid and listening. She reacts to him. She emphasizes and offers solace where he thought no one could understand. It's strange, and what pressure he may have felt at a time dies when he is with Kyla. Her relationship with Izumi does not falter in the slightest. She trains the girl, Izumi exceeding boundaries thought at her age.  Despite the smallness of it, Zuko wishes he could make gestures of affection towards Kyla in public but knows better than to create such a wedge within the normalcy of the political and personal air. There was a possibility that Kyla would lose credibility and the last thing he was looking to do was hurt her. To the palace staff, it seemed as though Zuko keeps a small crush on Kyla to himself, never truly moving to pursue it which is quietly decided is for the best. Nothing changes until one month into the affair when Kyla begins to change.

 

She remains the warm hearted Kyla everyone knows but to Zuko, she is a bit more distant. He attempts to let it go but eventually lets his curiosity draw out question when she sits at the end of the bed. Her fingers play with something and her gaze remains fixated down into her lap, her entire body reacting to the touch of Zuko who questions the truth.

 

“Nothing…” she breathes.

 

“Kyla.”

 

“I've just been tired lately.”

 

“Nothing has changed. _Kyla_.”

 

“ _Zuko_ -”

 

“Look at me.”

 

At this request, she pauses. There is little movement beyond the rise and fall of breathes, and even they seem to slow at the request. He sits up, brow furrowed in concern. He moves to touch her arm when she makes no move to look up until she does. Iridescent orbs stare back at him, threatening to spill. Her voice comes in a threateningly low tone, scared to break, nearly.

  
“I...we need to speak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dài wǒ shuìjiào roughly translates to “take me to bed" but it literally pans out to “take me to sleep.” Hopefully, you can figure out which one I meant out of context.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( I'll be posting an epilogue. )

Very little is said after the conversation. What could be? The inevitable gave no regard to what could have been or what should have been. Regardless of emotions, it came and we as mortal beings were slaves to it. What anger he had ever worked to rid of came in waves at such chance times. He could feel her eyes on him, though he didn’t offer a mutual gaze, eyes bitterly fixated elsewhere. In hand, he stares at the candy red envelope, the approaching warmth within his fingers threatening to burn it whole. He inhales heavily before exhaling quietly, though his glare does not die away in any form of the word. He is unwilling to open it. To see whatever may be inside will ruin him, he knows this. By the sight alone, it is clear that she herself has not viewed the inside. Understandably, he is convinced that words will no longer come to him but they manage, and he recognizes his tone as the angry youth he was, hardly trying to hold back the frustration that dizzies him. 

 

“How long?”

 

He swears he sees her wince to his words in the brief moment that he looks away from the envelope but she is otherwise just as low for the situation as he has become before she turns to him, legs crossed, “I got it this morning. I had - had gotten up before you to check on Izumi but got stopped by the courier. I didn’t think it was from my parents but...they’ve already been impatient with me taking to my thirties as a spinster. I hardly had contact with my brothers by their directive for it.” She waits but he says nothing, eyes still over the envelope. He had vaguely heard her speak of her parents at a time, Pure traditionalist essentially displeased with Kyla’s autonomy. She had slid it amidst conversation but he had caught onto the fact that they were less than pleased with the meshing of nations by his ukase. There was little within their sole daughter’s life that they found acceptable. In an honesty, He hadn’t really given much care to their opinions. He had not tolerance for those unwilling to progress in terms of restoring the nations, thus he had not honestly taken it to heart or within his bounds of significance.

 

But they had managed in their own way to interject themselves into his life - attempting to marry off Kyla with little regard to her opinion on the matter. This was what he would say allowed by his anger spewed from a far more self concerned place. He was incredibly concerned with the lack of actual consideration being given to her, but the deep truth came up about him. He was unwilling and quite selfish in terms of Kyla. A day would come when Izumi would marry and he would have to share her with another family, regardless of his personal feelings or preference and he geared himself for that as often as he could.

 

But he wasn’t sharing Kyla. He was losing her to another man.

 

He moves to speak. What words might have come, he isn’t and never quite knows but he is beat to it by Kyla who runs her hand over his, grasping it tightly as she turns his face to hers, swearing to Agni in multiple turns of apologies and denial of knowledge to it. There is nothing that leads him to believe that she is lying. She had very little reason beyond wanting to spare his feelings, and they both knew that had she withheld the information any longer than this morning, his anger would have been reluctantly but necessarily aimed towards her. He is only without patience for everyone else that surrounds them and he stands all at once, unable to feel her hand without feeling as though he were pursuing another’s wife - yet at the same time, he felt robbed. 

 

“Who is he?”

 

“I - I don’t know. He was appointed by my eldest brother, Ju-Long.”

 

“What about the Three Letters?” He nearly growls, abandoning emotional restraint, “For such traditionalists, they seem to have skipped tradition with an odd entirety.” She sighs and stays seated on the bed, exposed shoulder being covered as she looks up and through the window, hand running over her nape, “They established all two in my absence home. I wasn’t even aware of the arrangement from the beginning. Her hand tightens into a fist and she gives a laugh void of mirth, shaking her head, “As often as he writes, it seems as though my brother seemed to have not taken to mentioning my ill- favored. He’s expectant of my acquiescence, clearly. I swear I had no idea about - “

 

“I know, Kyla.” Defeat.

 

“Zuko…” she chokes. Little leaves beyond his name.

 

“You should go. It would...be abhorrent to be so close to another person's betrothed.” The words strike hard and Kyla realizes where they both have been forced to stand. There is a pregnant pause of silence and stillness from both parties, little else to be said. She was not his. Not anymore. Not for as long as that envelope remained a thing. That intangible ribbon binding her hand to another’s. 

 

Eventually, she only nods, gesture not visible to his back. She checks the halls with little honest care before leaving the room, the door softly clicking behind her.

 

They don't tell Izumi for a few days. Eventually, the news comes in a vague exposure that “ Kyla must move on.” The words are improperly put by Zuko himself, leaving Izumi an insecure mess with the impression that she was boring Kyla or something worst. It is the first time he has been the cause of Izumi’s tears and Kyla’s anger. However he might've reacted to that, he is somehow numb, still reeling by the blow to his rapture, a sudden lack thereof. He makes little effort to withhold his anger, less open and bitter to his staff. There falls a dark cloud over the entire palace and he is not seen out of his quarters for a full day after hearing one of the cooks whisper, “Lot more time than I'd thought, but he was bound to start around here like his father.”

 

Izumi loses her passion to train and gives little effort in their final lessons together. The sight crushes Kyla who only watches and apologies in their final lesson together, following it with nothing. Izumi attempts the hard exterior of her father that no one told her was feigned. She breaks into a sobbing mess and Kyla loses track of how long she sits next to that pond holding her, but it feels like a pause in time that defines the term “bittersweet.” 

 

“I'll never forget you, Master Kyla.”

 

This breaks Kyla, and she cries with her, unnoticed by Izumi in burying her nose into her hair. Kyla is brought into light about her worth to the staff, unknown to now. Nothing but good words and well wishes with his from those she has not thought even took her into consideration. It appears they have discovered the situation by the awkwardness in which they look to her before looking to the closed chambers of their Fire Lord, patting her to arm or shoulder in sympathy before returning to their duties. 

 

She never does find out how they knew about her betrothal.

 

With surprisingly steady footing, she is able to move herself to the back where the Fire Lord sat in front of the pond. He never wore the elegant or official attire of the Fire Lord. He always looked to be clothed for yet another adventure, almost anticipating. This had always made her smile, and it still does, though somehow her smile lags and she moves slowly. However the speed, she does not stop until she is settled in front of him. Despite her obvious presence, his eyes remain stay on the stilled water. She bites her lip, shifting weight from one foot to another.

 

“There used to be turtleducks here…” he finally speaks, adjusting posture, “But after I lost my mother, I didn't care to have them here anymore. I kept one for Izumi but even the sight of that one is a burden to me. I don’t tell her. But, I suppose it's like I told you...you endure things for other people's happiness.” He looks at her finally, brow furrowed promptly, “You've been crying.”

 

She turns away briefly with a small sniffle, chuckling sadly as she tried to rid of the evidence before facing him again, a sad smile overcoming her, “I will admit, saying goodbye to Izumi made me slightly emotional. I tried not to let her see me cry but I am likely the worst person in these situations…” He keeps a firm gaze on hers studies her eyes as he stands and gestures with a hand towards the innards of the palace, “You don’t want this. You don’t want to leave. Why leave?” This almost instantaneously renews the dew of her eyes and once again, she is quick to wipe it away, braving a smile that he could never assume for happiness. Her head cocks to the side and hiccups, “I suppose it’s the eternal bond of family that pulls and pushes us through life - the lucky of us. What I want has little to do with what my family needs - “ 

 

“You’re forcing me to say the obvious and most pretentious sounding - but who could you marry that would trump my social standing?” She gives a soft smile with some remnants of amusement that he cannot understand but verbally ignores. She looks up at him, still a safe distance from where he stands, “My family favors men of the military. And they are not...well, they would not be all too pleased to hear that I had bound myself to a man who supported the union of nations. It is a sad truth but it is one. I’m sorry.” Her hand quivers to reach for him but it somehow remains fixated to her side. She looks beyond him to the pond, thumb thrusting towards the palace yet again, “The maids...they were kind enough to settle my clothes in. Given I didn’t bring much, it was an easy process. I - I know it’s not exactly your favorite topic but I just wanted to let you...let you know I appreciate your staff. You have an amazing staff. Amazing daughter. Amazing home. You simply spew amazing, I suppose.” Her breath runs thin and she runs a hand over her hand briefly, sucking in a breath, “My brothers will be here soon.”

 

“Who is the man?” He growls suddenly.”

 

“What good would knowing do you?” She sighs, shoulders releasing from a tenseness.

 

“Do you know him?”

 

“I know...of his background, but his identity is beyond me.” 

  
“So they’ve chosen someone random?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

This is the end of their conversation. He puts no effort to know anything else, because as it would seem, she knew nearly as much as he did in a twisted revelation. She takes steps to him before she comes face to face with him, resting her forehead to his chest with a single hiccup. Identical to Izumi’s goodbye, she has no way of knowing how long she remains in that state but she doesn’t move once. His arms go around her at one point but damn if she remembers when. 

 

They part and she presses one final kiss, backing away from him at the call of ehr name. Her hand lingers in his and she is slow to let it go before she is through the door, the familiar sound of a carriage taking off. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak, he almost seems to wait. He stares where he has last seen her go, almost waiting for fate to make a turn. He almost waits for her to come back and renew his faith in Agni and disprove the very idea that he could lose another love within his life. He waits because surely fate can’t be so cruel.

  
She never does come back.


	4. Epilogue

From what’s reported, she makes a beautiful bride.

 

The hawks sent for info return promptly with note in beak to inform the Firelord himself of this. The wedding is held within two weeks after her leave and Zuko is adamant that her matrimony is withheld from the growing Izumi who still walks the hall with a curve to her back, head hung softly. While he does not imitate such actions, he feels the pain all the same. Perhaps if she had known, Izumi might shock him with a prodigious handle of emotions and see the beauty in her finding a man to wed her ( how many times had he heard Kyla preach the beauties of independence and lack of necessity in betrothal to the fascinated Izumi? ) - but the risk hugs too close to theory for him to take it.

 

He tells his uncle about subconsciously ill-advised plans that Iroh only concurs with as a wrong move but makes to move for the army barracks late into the day of the one afternoon, leaving strict instructions to the staff to inform Izumi that he would be gone only the day for private business with the city council of a city not so far off as to arouse her suspicion and possible pursuit. They are apprehensive, even in instruction, but comply in the thought of how she would react to where he was truly headed.

 

He takes off alone. A practice the guards are by no means privy to. The distance is not as close as the lie of the city that Izumi will receive but it is not so far that his promise of a day’s absence will not be kept. This is why he has left so early within the day, before the men’s days can begin.

 

Perhaps it is pathetic, but the name has been reread so many times he is no longer needing to look to the small thin of paper.

 

Jianjung Mèng.

 

A freshly dubbed Senior Lieutenant with not much of a record -  negatively. He kept to his handful of companions, respected his superiors, and apparently had not taken any time after his wedding, only going right back to his duties the next day despite the offer for time away with his newlywed wife. The time is a whopping three days but Agni, it was some time away that he declines. Perhaps it is not his place to judge, but Zuko is displeased by this.

 

He reaches the barracks within a few hours and is faced with bowed heads that permit him inside. He beckons for his time and is offered the office of one of the generals - he insists upon the mess hall. The men seem initially startled, one of them mumbling, “What the hell could Mèng have some?”

 

There is something informal and spacious about the area that the Fire Lord hopes will ease the man. He wants to speak with him, but to scare him into silence is hardly his intent.

 

He must see this man. Must come to face with the winner of a competition he had been so unaware of. Out of the anxiety in waiting, he binds his hair into a bun behind himself and waits. His eyes linger to the door that remains closed, shadows carrying through under the door before there is chatter and a man steps forward.

 

There is a clear rush prior to dress for the occasion as he fixates buttoning up the final areas of his uniform before looking up, keeping distance of Zuko, respectfully. He bows his head to him with the formal preamble required of militaristic men before Zuko beckons him to sit. Prior, he is aware that they share the same height, though the man certain does exude that of discipline. Far more than the Firelord, who has no overflow of pride to process...internally.

 

“I apologize for my, eh - _rushed_ appearance, your majesty.” He speaks, though this is the first time Zuko has heard him through his visual investigation. He gives a nod and sets a hand up, “It's fine.”

 

The man is still, though it's deathly and shows the nervousness. The Firelord re-adjusts himself, clearing his throat, “I’ll settle your nerves. You are in no form of trouble here. None at all.”

 

He breathes, “Apologies for my candor but...that is quite a relief.”

 

“I'm sure - but I wanted to speak about something a bit more personal, if that's alright with you?”

 

Mèng complies though nod, “Of course.”

 

You were recently…” he pauses and Mèng looks at him, startled. He forces the word out, “...recently married. Yes?”

 

The beam of a smile that the man is desperate to hide comes as an unexpected failure. His formal nature upon entrance shatters in so quickly and a  single gloved hand gives way to his steadied posture and his entire body becomes relaxed - seemingly without his own knowledge. The amusement brings his age down visually and he must straighten himself to compose himself, “Yes, your majesty. I did.”

 

“What's so funny?”

 

“Nothing you said, sire. I was...eh, I was enlightened by the thought. I've known my wife since we were young.”

 

His stomach pits and Zuko is unmoved, now the deathly still individual.

 

“Oh?” He manages out.

 

“Yes, sir. Her brother and I were good friends. I met her through him, training. I helped her perfect her lightning control when we were a bit older.”

 

“Did she...show interest?”

 

“Vaguely. Kyla is quite stubborn and wanted to do a bit more for the villages of the Fire Nation rather than work or live directly in the city. I have always lived a bit more within the farmlands but she was dissatisfied with that at the time. Our betrothal has been pitched many times but neither of us were ready. She wanted to travel and I wanted to join the ranks.”

 

The Firelord ponders, careful with his questioning now, “What changed, now?”

 

The man furrows his brow and Zuko knows that his questions are starting to startle the man, “From what she has told me, she had exhausted her need to travel.”

 

They had no idea.

 

“I wanted to ask why you didn't take your time off them. It seemed quite strange upon hearing about it.”

 

“I -uh…” his default of respect conflicts with his obvious offense to the line of questioning. Mèng is the one to know tread carefully with his words, “We both agreed that a break in schedules was unnecessary.”

 

Zuko looks at the man and realizes the truth.

 

He had meant something to Kyla for a time, but this man had meant something to her for a life. He knew intimate things about Kyla that Zuko would die wondering.

 

He dares to rationalize that this man has never seen her at her most vulnerable, lain back to sheets with muted sounds of a woman, pleasured but is immediately grounded by the fact that this man would never share _everything_ between him and Kyla - and Zuko had no right to ask for the sake of himself.

 

“Lieutenant - “

 

“Mèng, please.”

 

“...I would prefer that you take your time away. I would dare command it of you.”

 

The man is clearly taken aback.

 

Zuko proceeds:

 

“ I can understand the bond of childhood friends. I know it completely. There is nothing like it. There is no bond beyond it that could ever be quite as secure. You think there will be no one else. You think there will be no one else to extend the feeling of days and make you feel whole again. She will never replace what once was with that individual…”

 

_And then she changes you completely._

 

“I would insist that you take your time today.”

 

“I-I'm not going to lie to you, your highness. I'm completely confused.”

 

“Be with your wife. She needs you.”

 

“But I -”

 

“I suppose I'll have to order you won't I?”

 

There is a flicker of an oncoming chuckle before he withholds. Mèng gives a nod and looks behind him to the door, looking back to Zuko, “I will.”

 

Zuko stands, Mèng following suit, “My only condition?”

 

“Sire?”

 

_“Never tell your wife that we met.”_

  


Upon reflection home, it occurs to him that perhaps he has confused the boy worse than he knows. And while he has found peace that Kyla is not miserable and that he could have done nothing to prevent their separation, the burden remains and the consensus between mind and the subconscious is that he is right where he had been before he had left, unmoved from his place of uncertainty and frustration.

 

He is gifted with distraction at the presence of Katara, Sokka, and Toph over for dinner, Aang dwelling in a month long meditation in the tattered remains of his childhood temple.

 

Izumi is temporarily distracted at the sight of them and that beam of a smile lightens him. In truth, he is quiet for most of dinner and observes the banter with mild amusement - though it was not their fault. His chest swells with emotion and he wishes the innocence of Izumi for one night.

 

“My Lord?” A voice whispers, managing its way through the  laughter and conversation. He slips away briefly and slips into the hallway, looking to one of the maids who holds something in her hands, draped across. He cocks an eyebrow as she seems hesitant, “I was not entirely sure what your wishes for regarding this?”

 

In his hand, he ignites a flame and sees the garment for what it is.

 

The hakama made for Kyla.

 

Toph is questioning of her feelings, but she is not blind to the dangerous palpitations that she suddenly reads amidst dinner, turning her head softly.

 

He stares down to the piece, his built persona of steady wellness shattered. He glares at the piece, unable to contain himself emotionally. The maid sees his trembling hands, “Sire...?"

 

This time, his voice is cold, and chills the woman with the pain and rage invoked.

 

“ _Burn it._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously hope this wasn't a failure.

**Author's Note:**

> I like comments and feedback. Motivates. 
> 
> No pressure.


End file.
